


If You Give in Tonight (We'll Touch the Other Side)

by TragicLove



Category: Hanson (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crack Treated Seriously, First Time, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Porn With Plot, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 19:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20457983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TragicLove/pseuds/TragicLove
Summary: This fic was sparked by a conversation with another fic writer friend (Jaerie) and then the idea wouldn't let me go, so I had to write it. I have absolutely no idea what this is, but I would like to thank Harry Styles for telling us about his shroom use in his Rolling Stone article and for that being 1/2 of the reason this was written.Don't kill me if this turns into a series about every time they meet up, cause now I'm here for it.Hope you enjoy this madness.Title from Why Don't We Go There - 1D.





	If You Give in Tonight (We'll Touch the Other Side)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was sparked by a conversation with another fic writer friend (Jaerie) and then the idea wouldn't let me go, so I had to write it. I have absolutely no idea what this is, but I would like to thank Harry Styles for telling us about his shroom use in his Rolling Stone article and for that being 1/2 of the reason this was written. 
> 
> Don't kill me if this turns into a series about every time they meet up, cause now I'm here for it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this madness.
> 
> Title from Why Don't We Go There - 1D.

It’s not that Zac was anti-social or anything, it’s just that he didn’t particularly want to be surrounded by people having conversations he couldn’t give a shit less about while having to pretend that he cared. So, maybe he was a _little_ anti-social. 

But, standing in the middle of the wide open ‘living’ room of Shangri-La Studios, a place he definitely didn’t want to be, watching people from all across the music industry schmooze all over each other was taking it to another level. He didn’t know why Taylor insisted they go to things like this, what use was it for them? It’s not exactly as if they were itching to get back into the mainstream industry. On the contrary, Zac would rather have his eyelids pried off with pliers and he didn’t think either of his brothers feeling on the topic were too far off from his own. The Jack and Coke Rick had pushed into his hands upon their entry was sweating down his arm, not even a sip taken from it, and he sighed, looking around the room for a place to deposit the glass while searching for his missing brother who had forced him to come to this party in the first place. 

Isaac had gotten out of it, it being his and Nikki’s anniversary, and now that Zac and Kate were separated there wasn’t even _her_ for him to use as an excuse to stay the hell out of here, and every second that ticked by of him not being able to find Taylor, he could feel his irritation growing, bubbling up into anger that he didn’t really want to be feeling. He’d started therapy to deal with his sudden bouts of rage that would fall on him from time to time and he tried to draw words she had said to him, tips and tricks on how to calm down and pull himself out of it. _Fresh air_, he thought to himself. He just needed some fresh air.

He spotted a sliding glass door along the far wall of the room and he let out a breath of relief, walking quickly towards it and dumping the drink onto a small round table on the way. He slid the door open and stepped out into the backyard, blinking a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the much lower light. 

It was nice out there, he had to admit to himself as he took in the twinkle lights strung over the canopy swooping down from the side of the house. There were tiki torches lit around the perimeter of the patio, a couple of round tables scattered over its surface. He was just taking a step towards one of them when the deep clearing of a throat startled him. Instead, he felt his body jerk in an involuntary jump and he turned towards the sound. 

“Oh,” he said, taking in the man sitting on the wrought iron bench that was pushed up against the house. “Sorry. Didn’t- uh- didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

“‘S alright,” the man grinned, shrugging a shoulder. He stood and took a couple of steps towards Zac, holding his hand out. “Harry.”

“Zac,” Zac took Harry’s hand and then took a step back, squinting down at his t-shirt. “And that’s me. On your shirt.”

Harry looked down at his chest and let out a short laugh, looking back up at Zac. “This is one of my favorite shirts.”

“It- uh- doesn’t really match with the- the um-“ Zac waved down at Harry’s pants. Dark blue linen, tight on the thighs and then belling out into incredibly wide bottoms. “Bell bottoms.”

“Anything matches if you want it to,” Harry shrugged and moved back to the bench, sitting down and pulling his legs up next to him. “So, what’re you, escaping the madness in there?”

“Yeah,” Zac shifted his weight to his other foot, digging his hands into his pockets. “Not really my scene.”

Harry nodded up at him and Zac felt a low heat grow in his cheeks. Harry was looking at him as if he were trying to read him, his green eyes boring into Zac’s. He shifted to his other foot again and then dropped his eyes from Harry’s to a crack in the patios pavement.

“What about you? Escaping too?”

“You could say that,” Harry responded. “Recorded my last album here, brings back some memories. Was just going to relive the glory days.”

“Huh?” Zac looked back at Harry to see him rooting around in the pocket of his blue jacket, reemerging with a plastic bag. Zac looked at it and drew his eyebrows together, not understanding. The bag held a handful of what appeared to be foil wrapped chocolates. “You’re going to relive the glory days by eating candy?”

Harry laughed and shook his head, opening the ziplock bag and pulling two of the candies out and tossing one to Zac. He caught it at the last second, looking down at it and then back up at Harry. “These aren’t just chocolate, are they?” 

“Shrooms,” Harry’s voice at a tinge on amusement in it and Zac wanted to cringe at how stupid he felt, how innocent. Sure, he’d been in the industry since before puberty, but aside from the occasional joint, he wasn’t much of a partaker. “‘S okay, it won’t bite.”

“I don’t-“ Zac shook his head, leaning to hand the chocolate back to Harry. “I don’t do-“

“You don’t do drugs,” Harry finished. “I could guess that.”

“What’s that mean?” Zac lifted an eyebrow and drew his hand back, foil wrapped concoction still in it. 

“Bit of an all American boy, aren’t you?” Harry lifted an eyebrow and dropped it quickly. “Straight laced, married out the gate, popped out a bunch of tousle headed all American mini-yous. Never had a lick of scandal or trouble-“

“You know a lot about me, Harry?” Zac cut in, wincing at how cutting his tone was. 

“Just a little,” Harry chuckled. “No more than anyone else.”

“What do these things do to you, anyway?” Zac held the candy up, inspecting its wrapper. He turned it over in his fingers, it was so small, it couldn’t do all that much, could it?

“Dunno how to describe it,” Harry’s voice was rich and deep and Zac didn’t mind the way it filled the space in between them. For no reason at all he felt like he wanted to stay in his company, stretch out this chance meeting outside of a place he never wanted to be. “Words couldn’t do it justice, I don’t think. Wanna try it?” Harry patted the empty space next to him on the bench and Zac found himself moving forward and sitting down next to him. Harry unwrapped the chocolate in his hand and held it out to Zac. “Here,” he said, holding his other hand out to take Zac’s piece. 

Zac took the unwrapped one and looked down at it. It looked like any normal piece of chocolate, not scary or threatening at all. He shrugged his shoulders and popped it into his mouth. 

He stared across the yard while he chewed it, the taste not all too pleasant, the texture of the bits of shroom inside the chocolate a bit chewy. He swallowed and then looked over at Harry who was just finishing eating his own piece. “So how long til I feel...whatever I’m gonna feel?”

“Not long,” Harry stretched his legs out in front of him and Zac couldn’t help but take in how long they looked in the ridiculous Bell bottoms. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”

Zac nodded and leaned back against the bench, his head resting on the outer wall of the house. The sounds of music and laughter from inside we’re floating out over the patio and he wondered if Taylor had noticed he was missing. Probably not, he thought, his social butterfly brother was probably two too many drinks in talking about pianos or something to someone who really didn’t care. 

“I probably shouldn’t have done this,” Zac laughed. 

“Fuck it, right?” Harry turned his head, his green eyes catching on Zac’s again and Zac nodded. 

“Right. Fuck it.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Harry leaned the side of his head against the house so he was mirroring Zac. “But you look like there are a hundred things eating at your mind.”

Zac blinked and then sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Little bit,” Harry grinned. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Zac shook his head once. 

“Alright,” Harry nodded. “If you change your mind, I’m a good listener.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. What about you? Hiding out here all by yourself while there’s this exciting party going on inside?”

“I’m golden, mate,” Harry smiled. “Couldn’t be better.”

“Aren’t you lucky.”

“Hey, you wanna see something cool?” Harry sprung up from the bench and leaned down, grabbing Zac’s hand. “C’mon.”

It should have felt weird to have another grown man holding onto his hand and pulling him across the lawn of a practical strangers studio, but somehow it didn’t. Zac felt perfectly at ease to let Harry lead the way across the grass to wherever he was bringing him. Just as Zac was wondering what it would feel like if Harry were to slip his fingers in between Zac’s own, and cursing himself for the thought, Harry dropped his hand. 

“This was Dylan’s bus,” he waved at the old tour bus sitting at the edge of the lawn. “This was his place, you know. The bus just stayed here all these years. Turned it into a studio at some point. Come on.”

Harry reached up and pulled the door to the bus open. Zac thought to tell him to stop, that maybe they shouldn’t be trespassing into someone else’s bus-turned-studio. But then he realized that it was Harry Styles that he was trespassing with and he was pretty confident that even if they were found, no one would scold them. 

Harry lead him inside and Zac looked around, letting out a breath of hot air. “Wow,” he nodded. “This is incredible.”

There was a U shaped couch along the far end, throw pillows scattered over it, the rest of the space converted into what Zac was sure was a fully functional recording studio. There were a few guitars on stands around the small space, but no other instruments. 

“Isn’t it?” Harry grinned. “I used to come sit out here when we were recording. Imagine what it must have been like. To be Bob Dylan, you know?”

“Yeah,” Zac nodded. “Must have been something.”

“But, you’re Zac Hanson,” Harry winked. “You don’t need to be Dylan.” 

Harry moved to the far side of the bus and sat down on the couch, spreading his long limbs out. Zac followed, sitting a few inches from him. 

“I’m no Bob Dylan,” he laughed. 

“Don’t need to be though, do you?” Harry shrugged. 

“Guess not.”

“Ready to talk yet?”

“What?” Zac looked over at him and then shook his head. “Oh. It’s nothing, you know. Typical life shit. Wife left me, took half my money. Now I’m just moving along until the next thing happens.”

“Is she crazy or something?” Harry drawled and Zac’s eyes moved over his face. 

“What?”

“Your wife,” Harry lazily shrugged a shoulder. “She must be crazy to leave you.”

Zac opened his mouth and then closed it again, not sure how to respond. It felt a little bit like Harry was _flirting_ with him, but why would Harry Styles be flirting with him? It was absurd. 

“I mean, look at you,” Harry continued and Zac swallowed. Maybe he _was_ flirting. “I’ve seen your wife, Zac. She’s only going to downgrade from here.”

“I-“ Zac squinted and leaned forward a little, noticing how the corner of Harry’s mouth turned up just a little. “Are you _flirting_ with me?”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged one shoulder again, the other one this time. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because...we’re...we’re both-“

“Guys,” Harry finished, a lilt to his voice again and Zac nodded. “I find it doesn’t really matter. You know, if there’s a connection.”

“You think there’s a connection here?”

Harry’s eyes scanned all of Zac’s face, hovering somewhere around his chin before moving back up to his eyes. He nodded slowly and shrugged his jacket off so it pooled in the space between his back and the couch cushions. “I feel something.”

It was quiet. The two of them staring each other down as if it were a contest to see who would break first. Zac knew, that in the event of an actual contest, he would lose. There was no way he could hold up to Harry’s gaze. It felt like it was boring into his skull, walking around in his mind, trying to pull his secrets from him. 

Zac didn’t want that. All of the things he had kept hidden for as long as he could remember...they needed to stay hidden, right where they were, for no one else to see. Even if that someone else was sitting next to him, green eyes shining, dark hair a little wild, making Zac think thoughts and feel feelings he hadn’t thought or felt in a long time. Things he’d kept buried underneath the surface, ignored long enough that they had almost gone away. 

“You feel something too.”

It wasn’t a question. Harry was reading him like a book and Zac wasn’t sure if he hated it or liked it. He shifted in his seat, his thigh brushing Harry’s as he did and a roll went through him. _Relax,_ he scolded himself. Barely a touch, probably couldn’t even be considered one at all, and yet Zac’s stomach was suddenly bubbling with a low heat, the word dropping from his mouth before he could tell his brain not to. 

“Yeah.”

Harry smiled, this time with teeth, and then, in the slowest, laziest manner Zac has ever seen anyone do anything, he leaned forward, pivoting his body so it was facing Zac. Harry was glowing and Zac wasn’t sure if it was the shrooms or just Harry, and then Harry pressed his mouth against Zac’s. It was soft, almost questioning, and when Zac didn’t pull away, Harry’s lips moved, slowly but with a sure confidence that Zac wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. 

Harry’s fingers wrapped around the side of Zac’s neck, the tips of them sliding into his hair and then slowly, Harry’s body moved until his knees were on each side of Zac’s thighs. Zac had been in this position before, but never with a man, and certainly not one who trumped his size by at least a few inches, his body more solid feeling than any that had ever hovered over Zac before. It was a different feeling, heavier and harsher but not all together uncomfortable. 

Zac’s hands moved around Harry’s hips, resting on the small of his back, his lips finally catching up with Harry’s and moving with them. “Feel something now?” Harry mumbled against Zac’s mouth and Zac nodded against him, the pace of their mouths speeding up just a fraction. 

Harry’s hand slid in between them, Zac’s eyes popping open at the realization that he was - quite expertly, with one hand, Zac must admit - undoing his belt and the button and zipper of his jeans. How hard he already was only dawned on Zac when Harry pulled him free of his boxers and wrapped his hand around him as his lips trailed from his mouth to his jaw. 

“You move fast,” Zac whispered, his eyes falling back shut as Harry’s hand started moving over him. 

“Only way to move,” Harry mumbled against Zac’s neck where his lips were moving, his teeth grazing against the skin. “‘S it okay?”

“Yeah,” Zac breathed, his hands sliding underneath the hem of Harry’s thin t-shirt. The memory of a bucket hatted, very young Zac, on the front of said t-shirt forced a small groan of embarrassment from Zac and he hooked his fingers underneath the shirt and pulled it quickly over Harry’s head, breaking his work on Zac’s neck. Zac tossed the shirt on the floor and turned his head back, Harry grinning down at him, his hand still working at Zac, his wrist twisting on the way up. “Was too weird,” Zac mumbled, Harry letting out a quick laugh. 

“Okay but you have to take yours off too,” Harry nodded down at Zac’s striped t-shirt. “It’s only fair.”

Harry moved, sliding off the couch and landing in between Zac’s legs. He looked up at him, nodding at his shirt again. “C’mon, off with it.” 

Zac pulled his shirt off, dropping it where he’d dropped Harry’s. He realized he missed the weight of Harry, the electric feeling it had been causing inside of him, and he opened his mouth to tell him to come back, but instead, he sucked in a breath, nearly choking on it, when suddenly, along with his hand, Harry’s mouth was around Zac. 

It was hot and wet and, wasting no time, Harry’s head was bobbing up and down with gusto, his hand following. It certainly wasn’t the first blow job Zac had ever received, but it was definitely the most enthusiastic. All the ones before were hesitant and almost mechanical, like they were just a means to an end, a job that was being performed because the person providing it thought they were supposed to. 

But not this one. Zac didn’t even realize he was panting, his hands buried in Harry’s hair until he felt himself barreling to the edge. His head fell back against the wall and he squeezed his eyes shut, his knees closing against Harry’s body.

“I’m-” 

Harry let out a small, guttural sound and then doubled down in his efforts, his head moving up and down faster and then Zac was letting go, spilling everything inside of him into Harry’s mouth. His eyes moved down to the other man to see him taking it all with a hasty ease. 

Once Zac was spent and Harry was apparently satisfied that he’d gotten every drop of the release he had pulled from Zac, he pulled away just enough to slide back up onto the couch next to Harry, his mouth connecting with the sensitive skin right behind Zac’s ear.

“You always make those sounds? They’re very nice sounds.”

Zac wanted to laugh. The way he’d said it mixed with his accent and deep, slow drawl was so casual and intimate that Zac wasn’t really sure how they’d gotten here. 

“Am I supposed to be seeing colors?” Zac turned his head to look at Harry, who did let out a laugh before pressing his lips against Zac’s.

“Think it’s okay,” Harry murmured, running a fingertip along Zac’s jaw.

“Shouldn’t I- I mean-” Zac breathed in and out slowly for a few seconds. “Should I do something for you...now? I mean, you-”

“Relax,” Harry laughed. “Just relax.”

“Okay,” Zac nodded slowly. “I’ve never done anything like-”

“I know, it’s alright,” Harry smiled. “We don’t have to do anything else.”

Zac considered it. He could get dressed and walk out of the converted bus and through the house, out the door, into the car and drive away from this. He could leave it behind him, just a momentary lapse of judgement tucked away inside of an old tour bus in a backyard that didn’t belong to him. But, he realized, with astounding certainty, that he didn’t want to do that at all. 

“What if I want to?” He asked quietly, his eyes moving down Harry’s body slowly until they landed on the obnoxious blue pants, specifically the noticeable bulge underneath them.

“What do you want to do?” Harry’s voice was even lower now, sultry and gritty. Zac closed his eyes for a second and then opened them again, moving his hands to the first in a line of four golden buttons on Harry’s pants. He said nothing, just undid each one, and then looked back up at Harry who was watching him pensively. 

Harry stood up and pulled Zac lightly to his feet with him, sliding Zac’s jeans and boxers fully off before doing the same to his own. He slid his hands onto Zac’s hips and gently turned him around, his hands the. Sliding around his waist and resting on his stomach. He pressed their bodies together and kissed across the back of Zac’s neck, stopping near his ear. “You wanna feel something even better?”

Zac knew what he meant. He knew he should say no, that if they were under different circumstances in a different place he would never even be considering this. He was terrified and anxious and so ridiculously turned on. The ‘yes’ that fell from his lips was almost unnecessary, he knew that Harry knew he wanted it. He wanted all of it. 

***

“Wow,” Zac said quietly, his and Harry’s heads pressed lightly together. They were lying on their backs on the floor in front of the U shaped couch, each of them working hard to even their breathing, hair and bodies slick with sweat. 

“Good, yeah?” Harry turned his head so he was looking at Zac, Zac doing the same, their noses almost bumping. 

“Yeah,” Zac smiled, nodding slowly. “Real good.”

“Still seeing colors?”

“Only a few,” Zac laughed. “We should...Taylor is probably looking for me.”

“Probably,” Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, reaching over to where their clothes were and passing Zac’s items to him. They pulled their shirts on and then stood, dressing the rest of the way. 

They did all of this in silence, each of them stealing glances at each other every couple of seconds. Once they were fully dressed Harry smiled and lead the way off of the bus, holding the door open for Zac to step out. Once they were both out he shut the door and they walked side by side back towards the house.

“Hey, wait,” Harry stopped walking and grabbed for Zac’s hand, pulling him to stop with him. Zac turned to face him and lifted an eyebrow, a small smile on his face. “Maybe we could, you know, get together again sometime?”

“Yeah,” Zac nodded. “I...think I’d like that.”

“Would you?” Harry grinned, squeezing Zac’s fingers lightly.

“Yeah,” Zac repeated, nodding his head.

“Me too,” Harry leaned in and kissed Zac softly, holding on to his hand the whole time. They broke apart and a second later a voice broke the smiling gaze between the two of them, Harry finally dropping Zac’s hand..

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Zac turned to see Taylor standing in the open sliding door. “We should get back, it’s getting late.”

Zac nodded and turned back to Harry. “Should we like...exchange numbers?” It felt so juvenile, like something he hadn’t done in so long he almost couldn’t remember ever asking someone he was interested in for their number.

“I can find you,” Harry smiled. He walked past Zac towards the house, brushing the side of his hand over Zac’s on the way. Zac was sure that the tingle that spread all the way up his arm was just the drugs. He was certain. 

Zac watched as Harry smiled and nodded at Taylor and then slipped past him and into the house. 

Maybe this party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


End file.
